Of Cats and Jailbait
by hu3long2
Summary: Crack. A conversation between Hitsugaya and Matsumoto about cats, growing up and the hotness of older men.


Title: Of Cats and Jailbait

Characters: Hitsugaya and Matsumoto (and mention of various)

Warnings/Spoilers/Ratings: Crack and randomness with mention of slash/None/T for innuendo

Summary: Growing pains. The two leaders have a discussion about their fellow shinigami, especially Ichigo's hotness.

Disclaimers: Don't own Bleach, not even bleach

AN: Yeah... MatsuMama, you and your lolcats

omiai=professional matchmaking

Matsumoto gazed off into the distance, palm supporting her chin, index finger drumming her lower lip.

Noting the bemused expression on her face, Hitsugaya gave an exasperated sigh and raised his voice. "Enlighten me, Matsumoto, what's keeping you from work today?"

A startled "Ah!" escaped the perfect cupid's bow as Matsumoto, and both her assets, leapt into the air. "Taichou! Don't to that to us girls!"

Hitsugaya snorted. "I asked you a question, fukutaichou!" The tap of his foot could be heard beneath the table.

For the first time in a long while, Matsumoto looked embarrassed. Instantly, Hitsugaya's curiosity stirred, and he could hear Hyourinmaru's interested rumble. Matsumoto had hide tougher than the armour of an armadillo. He knew of nothing which could cause her tongue a moment's bashfulness, but it appeared that he was about to make its acquaintance.

"Taichou, I'm not sure..."

The hesitation, too, was quite unlike her. For the split of a second, Hitsugaya went on alert, then relaxed as he identified only mild discomfiture in her reiatsu. He narrowed his eyes, intensifying his glare.

"Matsumoto!"

"Okay, Taichou, l'll tell you, but don't say I didn't warn you!"

The returning devilry in Matsumoto's expression was a strange companion to the chagrin still dominating her features, but Hitsugaya recognized the familiar "sharing the pain with my cute Taichou" glee and groaned inwardly. What had possessed him to own to any curiosity?

"Just tell it, Matsumoto."

"You know our meeting at the Urahara shoten yesterday, right, Taichou?"

"I was there, Matsumoto."

"Well, I think I caught sight of Yoruichi-san's in use litter box."

"What?" Hitsugaya found himself turning a dull, if rapid, red as Matsumoto's words created a series of unwanted images.

"I'm sure it was, since she's the only cat at the shoten." Matsumoto nodded sympathetically at her Taichou's bulging cheeks. "But she's both a friend and someone who always has my deepest respect. I know that such things are perfectly natural functions, but her privacy should remain private. I really don't want to think about it, or wonder who does the poop-scooping at the shoten." She held up her hands. "But, Taichou, I really can't stop thinking about her using it!"

"Don't," ground out Hitsugaya, "tell me anymore." He closed his eyes and valiantly attempted to deny the past few minutes.

"Now do you understand why I'm bothered, Taichou?" Amusement was overcoming embarrassment on Matsumoto's face. After all, a burden shared was a burden halved.

One brilliant turquoise eye glared from beneath splayed fingers. "Enough, Matsumoto. We will not discuss this further. That's an order."

"Hai, Taichou."

Matsumoto's tone was mock meek, customary equanimity restored. He should have known that nothing could discommode her for any length of time, especially when she had a captive audience. The second turquoise eye joined the first.

"And no more references to cats either."

Matsumoto was about to repeat her agreement when she suddenly winced. "Ow! Taichou, Haineko says she's a cat!"

Hitsugaya shared her wince as reiatsu flared sharply. Haineko was vicious when upset. And his disgraceful dragon was rolling on the floor chortling, "Hai-kitty, kitty, kitty- litter!" He was absolutely sure that Haineko could hear every single intended word. Abruptly, his natural temper rose to the fore as the quiet office gave way to zanpakuto hijinks. They were in the middle of the work day, the Soutaichou had overloaded his division, and he did not need this.

"Hyourinmaru! Shut up! And you," he pointed at Matsumoto, "tell that blade of yours that she's a zanpakuto first and whatever else second! And get back to work!" The last was said at full volume. All Soul Society knew that Hitsugaya's parade ground voice was second to none.

Two spiritual presences and one material one obediently subsided and silence returned to the room, broken only by the occasional shuffle of papers. Then, after a carefully calculated space of time, Matsumoto's amused voice spoke up.

"Say, Taichou? It's a good thing Haineko's a spirit cat, otherwise I can't imagine the amount of poop-scooping I'd have to do in my inner world!"

"A little manual labour wouldn't hurt you, Matsumoto," observed her taichou drily. He had handled enough documents to restore him to even temper. And Matsumoto had a sixth sense for just when to time her comments.

"But Hai-kitty's a big cat! Aren't you, Hai-kitty?"

"So?" A temple started twitching in irritation. On the other hand, it did not take that much to set him off.

Matsumoto sighed patiently. "Poop's proportional, Taichou. Hmm... now that I think about it, it's a good thing Hyourinmaru's a spirit dragon too." A grin crept onto her lips. "Or that Tobiume or Senbonzakura don't really need fertilizer."

"You're full of shit, Matsumoto."

"You're not cute at all, Taichou!" The familiar pout was back, with the laughing eyes.

"Should I be?" Hitsugaya put down his brush and folded his arms.

"Well, the girls have this little theory."

"The girls being, I gather, those SWA cronies of yours, and not..." Hitsugaya's eyes flicked towards the infamous duo for a brief moment.

"Of course not, silly Taichou. These girls can't think!" Matsumoto patted her bosom complacently.

"They hardly need to," murmured Hitsugaya, "since they speak for themselves."

"Oh, Taichou, you do care!"

"Get on with it, Matsumoto, or you're doing over-time."

He received a mock-smoldering look in response, and he snorted. "I"ll cut the sake budget." His lips twitched at the look of horror that crossed Matsumoto's face.

"Really not cute, Taichou. You're definitely the perfect example of our theory."

A white eyebrow went up.

"You know, our bankai and near-bankai level shinigami men? The girls all agree that, with a few notable exceptions, the older they are, the hotter they get." She sent a disapproving glance at her taichou and the frown between his brows as he processed her theory. "I'm still waiting for you to grow up, Taichou."

Hitsugaya was about to protest her choice of words when he recognized the expectant look on her face. Matsumoto was an expert at pressing his triggers after all these years, and her deepening friendship with Hinamori only increased the finesse of her touch. But he was the famously icy Hitsugaya Taichou of the Tenth Division, a force to be reckoned with in Soul Society, a prodigy and the youngest genius captain in its history.

However, perhaps it was time to let go of the "prodigy" and "youngest" labels. Those were not labels that should be held for too long, lest he be marked by them forever. The "genius" he would retain, though that was probably not a label to savour. After all, Urahara was considered a genius. His mind shook itself clear of Urahara's inscrutable smile, then returned to the conversation. Several answers crossed his mind at lightning speed and a slow smirk crept over his face.

"So," he began, "if I grow up and get "hot", as you say, I can cut the sake budget and you'll not protest at all?" At the back of his mind, Hyourinmaru was chortling again, but the dragon was also radiating a warm approval that was unexpected for a being of elemental ice.

The expression Matsumoto's face was priceless and one he would carry to his dying day. Then, her eyebrows went up, and she began examining him intently, crystal eyes probing like a lancet, while he held on to his smirk as if it could go on forever. At last, she spoke, and her smile was reminiscent of a summer's day with clear, high skies.

"At that point, Taichou, you'll want to double the sake budget."

A rare chuckle escaped him. "We'll see, Matsumoto, we'll see."

He sat back against his armchair. Somehow, it felt like a rare moment of relaxation for him, even with the waiting piles of paperwork. "So, tell me more about this older men theory of yours." He had worked with older men for years, and in general, he found them rigid, conservative and long-winded.

Matsumoto steepled her fingers together. "It all started with Yoruichi-san."

Simultaneously, both taichou and fukutaichou flinched. Hitsugaya heroically kept his mind fixed on the image of the Shinouin princess, on the purple hair, the dark complexion, the round-pupiled eyes, and away from any feline imaginings. From the look of concentration on her face, Matsumoto was doing the same.

"And?" he prompted.

"You know how we all seem to fall into distinct graduation groups, you and Momo, Abarai-kun, Rukia, Kira and Hisagi all graduated within years of each other, Nanao and I, with Gin," here, her face shadowed, "and Kuchiki Taichou, then Yoruichi-san and Urahara-san, while Soi Fon Taichou, Isane and Kiyone come somewhere in between?"

A nod of acknowledgment.

"Well, Yoruichi-san was telling stories from a century ago, and she even had pictures with her, and it just struck all of us how _plain_ Kuchiki Taichou was! I mean, he had the big grey eyes, and he was rather cute, but he was just this skinny, bad-tempered looking kid! And Kuukaku-san said he was an arrogant little snot into the bargain."

Hitsugaya forbore to point out that Kuchiki Byakuya was still arrogant, if no longer little, and while he had certainly proven his worth to Soul Society, his ill-temper and rudeness were legendary.

"And," continued Matsumoto, "you could see that he would probably grow up nicely, but who would have thought that little runt would become one of the hottest men in Soul Society?"

Hitsugaya's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Matsumoto, I hope that you're referring only to Kuchiki Taichou as a runt, and not to anyone else!"

For once, Matsumoto looked serious. "It's not about the height, Taichou, it's just that he seemed so very unfinished at that age. I don't ever remember being as young as he looked, though Gin took care of me, and Gin, of course, was scary even before I met him. I've always known that, despite all." Her face hardened into her battle face for a brief moment, then resumed its previous expression. "And I know your gran and Momo protected you in Jurinan, but when I met you, you were already grappling with Hyourinmaru, and while you were still a brat and needed to be told a few home truths, obviously Hyourinmaru thought you were ready for him."

Hitsugaya decided to ignore the brat part. After all, her memories of that time were doubtless as clear as his. "There isn't a captain who hasn't been through a baptism of fire, Matsumoto, if only because they've had to master bankai. You know that. And Soul Society hasn't been the most restful place in the past century. It would only have been surprising if Kuchiki Taichou had remained as he was rather than become the man he is today."

"That just proves my point, Taichou! The shinigami men really do get hotter with age." Matsumoto paused, then smiled tantalizingly. "Do you know who we're really watching now?" Her voice trailed off invitingly.

Hitsugaya snorted and rolled his eyes. "It's obvious, isn't it? There's only one young shinigami we're all acquainted with. But why Kurosaki, of all people? He's loud, rude and rash, and has no respect for authority." Actually, that did sound like a blueprint for future bankai-level shinigami males when they were at a certain age. "Huh." Except that Kurosaki, of course, already had bankai, and goodness knew what else.

"Ah, you forgot the most important thing, Taichou. At fifteen going on sixteen, he was already very, very hot. And based on the evidence, in twenty years, if we allow for quicker human growth rates, he's going to be sensational."

"Do I want to know about this?" Hitsugaya asked the ceiling. Hyourinmaru's whuff next to his ear indicated that at least one of them did.

"Yoruichi-san has the most comprehensive collection of Ichigo photos you can imagine, and they chart every possible change, from the time he started training with Urahara-san to... well... sometime the past month. And Taichou, over the past couple of years, _it's only gotten better._"

Hitsugaya leveled a dire look at Matsumoto. "I needn't warn you that this is a gross invasion of privacy, need I? Not to mention that Kurosaki's still underaged? And what he will do if he learns about this? Or Kurosaki Isshin, for that matter!"

Matsumoto waved a hand airily. "Do you think of Ichigo as underaged? Do any of us? Besides, he should know better than to expect that Urahara-san's hot springs wouldn't be monitored. And if he will keep going over to the shoten to use the baths because the water there has the best mineral mix... As for Isshin-san, he'd just ask for the photos to use for omiai introductions for Ichigo."

Hitsugaya had a brief image of the older Kurosaki clinging to the blown-up picture of his wife, and gushing. "Oh, my dear Ichigo, all grown up and so sexy all the girls are after him. Masaki, look at the wonderful son we produced!"

Indeed, Kurosaki Isshin was the last man to be offended by semi-nude photos of his son distributed around the Shinigami _Women's_ Association. He blinked. Come to think of it, Isshin would be fine with the _Men's_ Association as well.

Matsumoto was still talking about the photos. "Those photos will bring them in droves, underaged or not. Ichigo's premium quality jailbait, if you must insist on calling him that. He's just like a sculpture that gets it right. Whether you're a chest woman, or a thigh woman, or a back woman, or an abs woman..."

"What if I'm not a woman?" muttered Hitsugaya, sotto voce. He was ignored. Hyourinmaru snickered.

"Ichigo's rather fine-boned for a male, but swinging that human-sized kitchen knife of his around all day? Better than a bench-press, Taichou! And shunpo has given him really strong legs. You know what they say about men with strong legs."

Hitsugaya clamped down on his "What?" The lascivious look on Matsumoto's face made her meaning obvious. "

It's like your shikai and bankai, Taichou. Ice is heavy, so you've really had to do a lot of weight-lifting and it shows!"

How had the topic of conversation turned to him? Hitsugaya wondered. At least, Matsumoto had been complimentary about his physique and avoided the suggestion that wielding and wearing Hyourinmaru too early had stunted his growth. The ice dragon chuckled. It was an accusation he often threw back at Hyourinmaru when teased about his penchant for milk and its growth properties. Suddenly, an alarming thought occurred to him.

"Does the SWA have candid photos of me, Matsumoto?"

Matsumoto tilted her head to one side consideringly, her eyes laughing.

"I will not regard this as a joke, Matsumoto."

She relented. "No, Taichou, not unless you've used Urahara-san's hot springs."

Hitsugaya pressed his lips together firmly, but his curiosity again got the better of him. Besides, Matsumoto looked all agog to inform him.

"So which unfortunate saps have used those hot springs?"

"Guess, Taichou!" Matsumoto held a finger to her lips and smiled winningly.

"Abarai, I suppose. He lived at the shoten and also trained Chad there. Chad, too, in all probability."

"Ah, yes, Abarai-kun. That's one prime example of a shinigami who has really improved with age. He's always had that gorgeous hair, of course. He could take better care of it, but he won't listen to me." Matsumoto added a harrumph to signal her displeasure, then continued her account.

"Momo has all these pictures of him at the Academy, and he was a healthy and well-built specimen even then, but there was still, you know, puppy fat, and he looked liked a roughhousing sort of teen from Rukongai."

"That's the thing about the Gotei Thirteen," she said thoughtfully. "It takes all kinds of kids and makes shinigami out of us. Abarai-kun now, he's really pared down to the essentials, and it shows in how he looks. That defined jawbone, those cheekbones and collarbones, and the tight chest, they make you want take many bites."

"Matsomoto! Without the editorial!" There was only so much his imagination could take in a day.

"Hai, Taichou. You see it too, don't you? He wears his experience on his face and in his eyes. And he's remade himself again since his bankai." Her expression grew shrewd. "It's obvious he's been trying to work on his speed with Zabimaru, so he's chosen leanness over the power of heavy muscle. And he was a pretty ordinary-looking youth, but now he stands out from the crowd with those spiritual tattoos Zabimaru shares with him."

"As he should," commented Hitsugaya. "The tattoos are marks of distinction, recording each step in his mastery of Zabimaru." Most assumed that Abarai's tattoos were a holdover from his Rukongai origins. He knew better.

"I wonder what the final form of those tattoos will be like," said Matsumoto. She shot a teasing glance at Hitsugaya which filled him with foreboding. "Do you think even his..."

"Matsumoto." As he had suspected. He quirked an eyebrow at her.

She pouted. "Yoruichi-san doesn't show us everything she and Urahara-san have, though it's enough to tell that the then and now is astonishing. Now, I want to pinch Abarai-kun's butt whenever I see him!"

"Hasn't she shown you enough?" inquired her taichou. He was not going to touch the issue of Abarai's assets. "That makes it three men you've caught on camera."

"Four."

This prurience was quite unlike him, Hitsugaya reflected. Perhaps it was the insidious comfort he took from the encouraging thought that when he finally grew into his adult form, he would be considered to have come along very nicely. It provided a kind of visceral relief to know his future appearance would not scare little children, even if logic told him that past evidence of shinigami grown male pulchritude was no guarantee of future results.

"Who?" he asked resignedly. Having come this far, he might as well learn the whole of it.

"Can't you guess?" Teasing mirth filled Matsumoto's voice.

"We did catch Abarai-kun, after all."

"Kuchiki Byakuya." He did not need to guess, all things being equal.

Matsumoto leaned forward confidingly. "He's very well-built, you know, lean layers of muscle, broad chest, beautifully defined abs, sprinters' thighs. And we always thought he would be really slim, just from looking at his hands. Our uniforms just hide so much!"

"Not yours." The low mutter went unheeded.

"Now, he's a dreamboat, from whatever angle you look, and so good with Abarai-kun. He has strong legs too." She shot him a sly look.

Hitsugaya shook his head.

"Give or take a century or so, and voila! I just can't get over how different he is from that skinny little kid, all hair, bones and temper!"

A giggle accompanied her next revelation. "We put the pictures of Ichigo and Kuchiki Taichou at the same age next to each other, and you know what, Taichou? No competition. Hands down none at all. That intensity and that colouring blew us away. In fact, Rukia was really thankful that her Nii-sama wasn't the same age as Ichigo. Otherwise, Abarai-kun would never have gone for Kuchiki Taichou!"

Hitsugaya frowned. "I thought you said Kuchiki and Abarai were only gay for each other."

"Taichou," said Matsumoto austerely, "it's not about orientation, it's about Ichigo." She paused and admitted, "Though I suspect I might have been wrong about Abarai-kun."

"I don't want to know about it," was the immediate response. Some reflexes were too conditioned to outgrow quickly.

"I'll leave it for another day then, Taichou!" Matsumoto said, cheerfully unfazed.

Hitsugaya unfolded his arms and picked up his brush again, signaling the end of his break. "And thank you, Taichou."

"What for?" He looked up from his ink stone. "Now that I've told you all about the pictures and gone Yoruichi-san this, and Yoruichi-san that often enough, I'm not longer disturbed by the litter box!"

"You're welcome, Matsumoto." Hitsugaya's voice was calm. "Now get to work."


End file.
